'Stranded Pakistanis' living in camps in Bangladesh – in pictures

Bangladesh’s Urdu-speaking minority community, sometimes known as Biharis, are consigned to live in camps for ‘stranded Pakistanis’ that were set up in 1971, during the establishment of the Bangladeshi state, even though they have no roots in modern Pakistan. They often live in dire conditions, facing discrimination from mainstream society. Legal aid NGO Namati is trying to help them gain access to citizenship

Staff camp, Dhaka. There are about 300,000 Urdu-speaking people living in camps for stranded Pakistanis in Bangladesh. The camps date from 1971, when fighting during the establishment of the Bangladeshi state forced the Urdu-speaking minority into these supposedly temporary dwellings. All photographs: Bremen Donovan/Namati

Geneva camp, Dhaka. Many ancestors of the Urdu-speaking minority came from Bihar, India, during the partition in 1947. The camps’ residents are referred to as Bihari, which is a loaded term in Bangladesh. Some trace their ancestry back not to Bihar, but to other regions in India and present-day Pakistan

In many of the Bihari camps in Dhaka, the floors are weak and prone to crumbling. Gaps in the walls and under the stairways expose rusted structural steel and rotting concrete. Electrical lines hang in webs above the hallways and are perilously frayed

Many Biharis are increasingly able to pass as mainstream Bangladeshis. This gives them access to housing and services such as education – and a better chance of acquiring citizenship documents. But for Urdu speakers, ‘passing’ in order to get the basic rights granted by law means abandoning their culture

Mymensingh camp, Dhaka. Urdu speakers have suffered discrimination and extreme poverty since the country’s war of liberation. Despite a law introduced in 2008 that guarantees citizenship for Bihari refugees, they face serious obstacles to obtaining citizenship documents such as passports and birth certificates

The conditions in the camp are dire. Houses are separated by two-foot (61cm) wide passageways shared by residents, goats and chickens. Houses are tiny, usually less than 8x8ft, and host entire families. Residents raise their beds to make space for possessions underneath. When it rains, the camp floods, toilets included

In 2013, the legal empowerment organisation Namati partnered the Council on Minorities, a local rights group, to provide services to people seeking citizenship documents. Since last June, 10 paralegals and three volunteers have been trained to work across all the country’s camps and have assisted almost 1,500 stateless people

Nahid Parvin, 20, is a paralegal working for the Urdu-speaking community in Dhaka. She says her work has changed her life. Although she is young, she has experienced a lot of respect from her community. “Everyone says salam, and they call me madame,” she says. Parvin feels inspired to continue her work in development by training as a social worker

Parvin, who is from the Bihari community, has basic law and mediation training. She works as a grassroots advocate, helping people apply for identity documents. Parvin suffered discrimination growing up: ‘Teachers would say, “Oh, you’re from the camps, you killed our forefathers in ‘71.” I didn’t say anything,’ she says. ‘But I cried all the time’

For women, the prospect of travelling by foot or public transport to deal with officials and exchange money is intimidating. The community faces rejection or bribe requests when applying for ID documents. But for some it is worth the risk, as a Bangladeshi passport allows residents to work abroad and send back remittances

Parvin takes a group of women to apply for ID documents. Namati collects data on applications to identify bottlenecks in the system and cases of discrimination. It then makes policy recommendations to the Bangladesh government. Parvin’s work has the potential to benefit up to 300,000 people struggling to gain identity documents

Camp residents apply for ID cards in Dhaka. In some city corporation offices, uncooperative officials reject the majority of Urdu-speakers’ cases. In other areas, the process is more reliable. For camp residents younger than mid-40s, Bangladesh is the only country they have ever known

Files pile up in a city corporation office. By tracking cases Namati and the Council on Minorities already have better data than the government detailing cases of discrimination and delays in receiving citizenship documents

Parvin walks with Farzana Naz, a young mother from the Urdu-speaking minority. Naz has applied for a passport so she can take a job as a domestic worker in Saudi Arabia to support her daughters through the rest of their schooling. Parvin is helping with her case